This reminds of some early wu-tang shit. Like a slow cadence type flow to a gritty work. I dig the grit.
The metaphoric mirror breaks when I go berserk, lyrical.
Dropping the apocalypse like something mythical.
The Shakesperan tragedy of miracles.
Creation has become a grandiose ritual
Done in the guise of something spiritual.
Lying empty-minded in a dandelion field, blissful.
Awaiting nature's revelation, the divine principle.
Overall solid stuff. Keep it moving.
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